


Lesser Men

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Juan just moved to manchester, M/M, Manchester United, david is cute, etc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David offers to show Mata around when he moves to Manchester. Juan is a little reluctant at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesser Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cescky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cescky/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Juan had a bright smile on his face when he walked onto Manchester United’s training pitch for the first time, because Juan always had a bright smile on his face. Deep down, he felt miserable though. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be Manchester United’s newest player. He _hated_ Manchester United. He _hated_ Manchester. He wanted to be back in London, back with Chelsea, and most of all back with Fernando.

Like that would ever happen. Fernando had made it clear that his heart truly belonged to his childhood sweetheart – Sergio, not Olalla. Well, screw him! If he wanted Sergio, he could have him. Juan could find someone else!

Yeah, right.

Juan’s cheeks burned from holding the fake grin in place. Any minute, this façade would come crumbling down and all of his new teammates would see him for the fraud that he was. They would know that he hated the club they held so dear. They would see that he…

“Juan!”

Juan jumped, and the grin fell. Somehow, his cheeks hurt worse now that the muscles attempted to relax and return to their normal positions.

“Juan! Hola!” A slightly familiar voice invaded Juan’s personal space, and it was speaking Spanish! He might have truly smiled if his heart weren’t so broken; his cheeks so exhausted.

He looked up at the smiling face before him, above him. David De Gea. He knew him from the National Team, of course, but not really well. They were meant to share a room once, but that lasted about fifteen minutes total before Fernando had them swapped.

Thinking of Fernando made the corners of Juan’s mouth fall into a frown.

“Wow, don’t look so happy to see me,” David joked, slapping his shoulder.

“I… Sorry. Hi, David. How are you?”

“Your formality is almost worse than your silence.” David laughed, and gave the shoulder he had slapped a squeeze. “Lighten up, Juan! You’re gonna love it here!”

“Not likely,” Juan blurted before he could stop himself.

David just laughed, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Juan wasn’t sure he liked how touchy-feely the keeper was, but he kept his mouth shut. He had already been offensive enough for one day.

“Just stick with me, Juan. I’ll show you around the city, and make you feel right at home.”

Juan didn’t believe him, not for one second.

 

Training went okay, but Juan was happy to be going home a few hours later. He showered quickly, and got his things together. He was almost free and clear when he felt a hand close around his wrist.

He jumped, and turned to face the owner of the hand. David, of course. He almost pulled his arm away, but stopped himself. That would be rude, surely.

“Sorry to startle you,” David said, and quickly added, “I guess that’s the second time today, so twice the apology!”

Juan stared at the smile on his face, and wondered if it was genuine. It seemed too big and wide to be so. His eyes seemed to sparkle too brightly. Maybe he was just projecting.

“Juan?”

Juan blinked a few times. He had been staring at David’s mouth, he realized. His cheeks heated up, taking on a light crimson tint. “It’s okay. Was I in your way, or something?” Would it still be rude if he pulled his arm away now? He stared down at David’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

David followed his gaze, and a moment later, he loosened his grip, and let Juan’s arm fall to his side. He muttered an apology. “I wanted to invite you out.”

“Out?” Juan scooted aside when a few players pushed past him. David moved as well, but the wall stopped them, and they were nearly pressed together.

“Out,” David replied.

 

“Where are we going?” Juan asked as David drove through the streets of Manchester. He was fairly unfamiliar with the city, but he knew the area right around the stadium, and the Lowry – the hotel at which he was staying until he could find a home.

“This great Spanish restaurant I found. It’s kind of difficult to get to, but it’s worth it. The food is almost like back home, and there’s hardly ever paparazzi there. They probably can’t find the place.” David laughed, and snuck a glance at Juan.

Juan offered a small smile, and quickly turned to look out the window. David shifted his gaze back to the road ahead as they twisted and turned through the streets that would take them to the hidden restaurant.

 

“It’s good, right?” David asked, nibbling at the tapas on his plate.

Juan nodded. It was good. He had some “traditional” Basque pintxos on a small plate in front of him. He had nibbled mostly, thinking about the times he’d spent in the Basque country in the past. His family went on holiday there when he was younger. As an adult, he visited the country with Xabi and Fernando. A frown transformed his entire face, and he dropped the small bite onto his plate.

“Juan…” David spoke softly, so he wouldn’t startle Juan for a third time that day. Juan flicked his eyes up to him, but said nothing. Big surprise. “What is on your mind?”

Juan’s eyes widened. David wondered what was so surprising about that question. Unless, what was on his mind was the surprising thing.

“You seem lost in your thoughts, all day,” David continued. “Would you mind telling me what’s up there that is so much more interesting than me?”

The question sounded harsh, but when Juan looked up there was a smile on David’s face. “I’m just a quiet person.”

“Quiet people still respond when people talk to them, don’t they?” The smile on David’s face faltered. “Would you prefer if I didn’t speak to you? I thought I could help you, but if I’m not then…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude to you, David. This is just a lot to take in. I’m sure you can understand.”

David nodded. “I can. It was a lot for me when I first came here. At least you’re accustomed to the country.” He laughed, and then immediately apologized. “I didn’t mean to make light of your situation.”

“No, you’re right. I am accustomed to the country. I speak English fairly well. Still, I miss London. Is that so bad, to miss a place that you have lived in for years? To miss a club where you have so many fond memories. To miss…” Juan cut off before he could say _Fernando_. He hung his head, ashamed of the way he had blurted out so many feelings.

“It’s not bad at all.” David took a sip of his water. “I’m not saying that you should forget about all of that, but you’re here now. And I’d love to help you get to know the city, to make you more comfortable here.”

“I appreciate it, really,” Juan said quietly. “Thank you.”

***

“Good first match,” David said, slapping Juan on the back.

It was two days since their awkward dinner at the Spanish restaurant, and Juan had just made his debut for the Reds. He wouldn’t say that he was particularly happy. The fans were nice enough to him, which surprised him, but he did nothing particularly impressive. He didn’t even come close to scoring a goal. His dismal performance had him convinced that he could avoid this post-match interaction with the young keeper. David, however, seemed to have found something _good_ about the match.

“Thanks,” he said, half-smiling. Juan waited for David to suggest that they go out, celebrate, get to know the city.

But he didn’t. He reached out a long arm, ruffled Juan’s curly hair, smiled, and walked away.

Juan’s brow furrowed. He wondered why he felt dismayed. He hadn’t wanted to go out anyway…

 

The next week, they had a similar interaction. David congratulated him on a nice assist, ruffled his hair, and left the stadium. A couple of weeks later, after the next home match, he merely patted his back, winked, and left without a word. Juan went back to his hotel room feeling empty inside. He left his phone in the living room to avoid the temptation to call or text Fernando, and went to bed.

February was giving way to March, and United was facing the Manchester derby when Juan finally found a flat (with help from his City rival, but fellow Spaniard, David Silva). He arrived at the stadium on the day of the important match with a pep in his step. It felt good to be settling in to his new home, and he was surprised to find that he wanted to share the news with only one person.

“Guess what!”

David jumped, and dropped his glove onto the floor of the dressing room. “Juan?” He smiled at him as he bent to retrieve the fallen glove. “Are you trying to get back at me for startling you so many times on your first day here?”

Juan’s cheeks burned. “No,” he said, staring down at his boots. “I, um, I just wanted to share my good news.”

“Hmm… Juan Mata sharing good news? Sharing _anything_? Nope, that doesn’t sound right. I must be dreaming.”

“David…” Juan was surprised to find that his cheeks felt like little wildfires on his face. He looked up, and unintentionally batted his eyelashes at the keeper. “I just moved into my new flat last night.”

David’s smile transformed from joking and goofy to genuinely delighted. “Oh, Juan! I’m so happy for you! That’s great!”

Juan braced himself for an invasion of his personal space.

And David delivered, pulling him in for a quick, but tight, squeezing hug. When he pulled away, his hands (one gloved, one bare) stayed on Juan’s shoulders, gripping gently. “Is it close to the stadium?”

“Pretty close, yes. It’s near the water too, and still close to the Lowry, which I have come to love.”

“Wait, wait. Juan Mata has come to _love_ something in Manchester? Oh, no! This is definitely a dream!”

“David, stop! I’m serious. I really love it. It’s one of my favorite places.”

David dropped his hands from Juan’s shoulders. “I’m really happy for you, Juan,” he said as he pulled his left glove onto his hand. “Kind of sad too though.”

“Hmm?” Juan’s brow furrowed. “Why are you sad?”

“You came to love Manchester without me…” David barely looked at him, and walked out of the dressing room.

 

The match was not one of Juan’s best. He wouldn’t even say it was in his top twenty… or thirty. He was distracted by thoughts of David, and how sad he had looked as he left him behind in the dressing room. His words kept running through his mind…

_You came to love Manchester without me._

After the match, David filed into the dressing room with the rest of the squad. Juan barely saw him. He rushed through his shower while David took his time. He was dressed, and nearly everyone else had gone by the time David came trooping out of the showers.

Juan had saved putting on his shoes until he saw David emerge. He couldn’t very well just sit there staring at him while he dressed. Creeper. He busied himself with his shoes, taking his time like this wasn’t something he had done millions of time in his life.

The dressing room was empty, save the two of them, when David spoke. “You need some help tying your shoes, Mata? Have you forgotten how?”

Juan blushed, and quickly tied the laces of his right shoe. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his pant legs with his hands, and looked up at him. “I was waiting for you to finish up…”

“No kidding.”

Juan’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. “David… I don’t love Manchester, you know?”

“No?”

“No.” Juan looked down at his shoes. “I just came to love the Lowry without you… probably because I didn’t go many other places. I… didn’t really have anyone to show me around. The papers were starting to say horrible things about Silva and I – rivals – spending so much time together.” Juan frowned. He had actually loved spending time with the Canarian. They had been friends a long time. The paparazzi and the journalists only saw the rivalry between their clubs.

“I’m sorry about that.” David closed his locker, and pulled his coat on.

Juan followed suit, grabbing his coat from his locker, and tugging it on.

“I offered to show you around, remember?”

Juan nodded, but said nothing as he buttoned up his coat.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to. I thought you needed your space, so I gave it to you.”

“I thought so too,” Juan blurted. He bit his lip quickly, and flicked his eyes up. His bright blue eyes locked onto David’s. “I was wrong.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think now?”

“I think I was just homesick for London, and I… I was lonely without someone, without you to show me around, and invite me to dinner.”

David crossed the room, and stood just a foot in front of him. “Would you like me to invite you to dinner tonight?”

Juan shook his head. “I want to invite you to dinner... at my new flat.”

David’s forehead creased. “I have heard horror stories about your cooking, Juan.”

Juan guffawed, and covered his mouth. “They are all true, I assure you!” He giggled. “We can order in. Or maybe you could take me to your favorite takeaway restaurant, and we can order something to take back to my place.”

“Or I could take you to the best market, and then I could cook for you. Maybe I could even give you a lesson.”

Juan shook his head adamantly. “Many a man has tried… All have failed.”

“Perhaps they were all lesser men than I.”

 

“Congratulations, Juan. You just prepared grilled ginger salmon with grilled peaches.” David beamed with pride.

“I can’t believe it! I mean… You did most of it, really. You even bought the grill thing to cook it on.”

“Grill pan.”

“See! I don’t even know the name for it.”

David laughed. “You did really great. You helped so much. I’m really proud of you.”

Juan tried to stifle a grin, but he couldn’t manage. “You think it’s edible?” he asked, looking up at David, his grin widening.

“Only one way to find out…”

 

“That was the best salmon I ever eaten,” Juan gushed after they had completely finished their meal.

The plates still littered the small table in Juan’s kitchen, all but licked clean. The two men sat across from each other, smiling happily. Their bellies were pleasantly full.

“It was delicious, Juan. I told you that you could learn to cook. You just needed a good teacher.” David winked at him, and brought his fork to his mouth. He licked off the remnants of the sweet grilled peach juice.

Watching his tongue slide over the curve of the fork, Juan felt his stomach flip. He looked away quickly, and stood up from the table. “Thank you. I mean, really. I appreciate it.”

“If you really want to thank me, you could have dinner with me again tomorrow.”

 

Dinners became a nightly occurrence when they weren’t away for matches. Sometimes, the duo ate a home cooked meal and unpacked/decorated Juan’s new flat. Other times, they ate at David’s flat, but most often David took Juan around the city and introduced him to all of the best restaurants, cafes, and pubs. After a month, Juan had truly come to adore the new city. There was so much beauty in it, so many things to love. Juan was beginning to think there might even be some _one_ to love in this city.

March was coming to a close, and Manchester United was hosting Aston Villa at Old Trafford. Juan was feeling great, having made dinner alone for the first time the night before. He had prepared the same salmon from their first dinner, but entirely on his own. David had raved about it. He loved it so much, in fact, that he took the leftovers home with him. It had filled Juan with so much pride to please David.

During the match, he was distracted by David, but in a positive way this time around. He wanted to please him like he had with the meal, but this time on the pitch. He wanted to score, or at least assist as many goals as possible. He wanted Manchester United to win this match. Was he forming some sense of loyalty to this club?

Nearly an hour into the match, Juan finally did what he had been waiting for: he slotted in a beautiful shot. He felt so proud. He jumped. He screamed. He thrust his arms into the air.

He stared down the pitch, searching for David. His eyes finally locked on the keeper and a grin spread over his face.

David had his arms in the air, fists pumping, beaming with pride.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Leave some comments and kudos below if you did! xx


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